


Powerful Beyond Measure

by Kai_ROz



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Not Canon Compliant, Post S3 E3 (mild spoilers)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_ROz/pseuds/Kai_ROz
Summary: After their encounter on the bus, Villanelle knows she has the upper hand and wants to make her next move ...ORVillanelle is a chaotic idiot when it comes to Eve.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 32
Kudos: 414





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and thank you for reading this, it's my first attempt at fan faction. I hope that I was true to the characters, specifically Villanelle and her impeccable style. She's my favorite messy asshole.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments, I'd appreciate any feedback you have.

She laid in Konstantin’s bed, smiling. Her entire body felt like it was humming with electricity. Her mind was racing, replaying the day’s events.

_She kissed me. I knew she loved me, I knew she wanted me._

_No. She loves me and she wants me._ She couldn’t help but smile even wider and shake her head at that fact. And it was a fact, Eve had shown her true self for an instant.

 _Finally._ “Finally, Eve.”

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. She was going to get everything she’d wanted, everything she’d worked so hard to obtain. Surely now, she was going to be a keeper. The Twelve wouldn’t have sent her here, to kill an accountant, unless he was someone who actually mattered to them. Accountants kept the money, they knew where it all came from, where it went, accountants aren’t assassinated for no reason.

But her smile soon faded the more she thought about the Twelve and her promotion to keeper. Eve wouldn’t like the idea of her being a keeper, she knew that much. Even though keepers were powerful, Eve wouldn’t understand or appreciate all the benefits of such power.

_Eve. Why now, Eve? Why always Eve?_

She wasn’t sure what she wanted more in that moment, all the power and wealth the Twelve had to offer her, or whatever it was that was finally going to happen with Eve? What good would the power be if Eve didn’t come with it? But if Eve rejected her again, what would she be left with?

No, she couldn’t think like that, not now. Not when everything was so close she could touch it, so close she could taste it. 

_Eve. I taste Eve._ She started to smile again, thinking of that moment on the bus. It hadn’t gone at all like she’d expected, but damn, it was so much better. She couldn’t have expected Eve to be so angry, so aggressive.

 _Mmmm. So aggressive._ She’d never experienced anything like that moment. Thinking about it sparked another surge of electricity through her body. She wanted more, now. She had to have more.

But should she go to her again? Should she go now when she clearly had the upper hand? Should she go to see how Eve liked the teddy bear or the sound of her voice? She knew she shouldn’t go, that she should just wait to see what Eve’s next move would be, but fuck it, she couldn’t wait. She’d waited so long for today and she needed more. She quickly and quietly left Konstantin’s apartment and made her way back to her hotel. 

Why did Konstantin have such a nice apartment in London, and why did he need 6 million Euros? She would figure that out later. Right now, she had to prepare for Eve.

\-----

Back in her hotel room she combed through the bags of new clothes and laid their contents out across bed. How should she approach this meeting tonight with Eve, after everything that had already happened earlier? 

Eve was obviously turned on by her grey suit. But she was going to Eve under completely different circumstances this time. Eve would see right through another suit and she would know exactly why Villanelle was there. That wouldn’t do, she couldn’t concede ground back to Eve now. 

She settled for her new mineral blue silk Givenchy shirt, complete with the gold chain cinching the collar. Next, she grabbed her new black leather Brunello Cucinella pants and worked herself into the tight, fresh leather. Villanelle walked over to the bathroom mirror and gave herself a once over. 

_I bet Eve likes leather. She seems like she would like that now._

She walked back over to the bed and pulled on her black Grenson combat boots. As she got up and walked toward the door, she stopped at the entryway mirror momentarily, just to ensure she prepared herself to see Eve again tonight. She pulled her hair back into a smooth low bun and tucked her shirt into her pants. Then she ran her fingers over the unmistakable bruise above her right eye. What an asshole? She definitely loves me. And with that thought, started to practice:

“Hi, Eve.” _No, that wasn’t the right way to open this time._

“Kill Commander, do you need any help getting into bed tonight?” _That’s too much._

“Eve, it’s me.” _That sounds right._

She ran her hands over her hair and shirt one last time. “Ok, I’m ready.”

\------

As she arrived on the street in front of Eve’s dismal new apartment building, and she suddenly couldn’t move. Walk, dammit. But her body would not budge. Villanelle could feel herself begin to shake slightly. _FUCK. Stop it. Get your shit together._

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that unmistakable head of curly dark hair walk toward the apartment door. _She’s wearing her hair down. Ugh, thank you, Eve._ No, she wasn’t walking toward the door, she was sort of limping maybe? _Serves her right, she slapped me and she head-butted me._ But that thought was a fleeting one, and within half a heartbeat, Villanelle could feel herself stretching her arms out for Eve. 

She wanted to comfort her and hold her close in that instant. When they kissed, Villanelle had felt the deep, slow thump of Eve’s heart against her right forearm. It was an amazing thing to feel, and she rubbed her arm slowly, remembering every millisecond of that bus ride. With that, she found her feet again and Villanelle walked soundlessly toward the apartment building. She was within arm’s length of her again and could see every single curl of her hair.

There, she waited for what felt like forever until Eve found the keys for the building’s door and entered. Just before the door shut, Villanelle stuck her boot inside and effortlessly slid herself into Eve’s apartment building for the second time that day. She already knew which door belonged to Eve, so she didn’t bother to buzz up.

She paused a few moments for Eve’s apartment door to shut. Then she made her way up the stairs, bounding them two by two. She moved so quickly up the stairs, she could feel her heart starting to race. Villanelle stopped a few feet from the door and listened.

“Admit it, Eve. You wish I was here.” _Perfect._

She waited as she heard the recording place once more. Then, again. And again. And again … And again.

 _Christ, Eve. You’re going to break it._ This could not possibly be more perfect. Listening to Eve play her voice over, and over, and over, AND OVER again was all that Villanelle needed to compose herself. She could feel her lips curling up into a wicked, wry smile at the thought of words in the message cutting through Eve’s all-but-non-existent façade to the truth that existed between them. Eve did wish she was there with her, clearly, and lucky for her…

~knock~ 

Villanelle heard Eve gasp. After a few moments, she heard her shuffle across to the door. Villanelle was certain Eve knew who was at her door. She reached her hand for the doorknob and waited for it to open.

“What do you want, Villanelle?”

“Eve. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

Eve huffed. “You know we aren’t friends.”

Villanelle chuckled at that. “You’re right, Eve. We aren’t friends, are we? We’re much more than friends.” 

“Why are you here?”

“I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

“No, I don’t know.” Eve’s voice was starting to pitch higher, she was getting agitated.

“You want me to be here, Eve.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Admit it.”

There was a silence that hung in the air for what felt like hours. Villanelle worried that Eve was pushing her away, yet again. This was getting exhausting, again.

Finally, Villanelle pulled her hand back from the door, dejectedly stuck her hands in her pockets, and began to walk back toward the stairs. Just as she reached out for the handrail, she heard a door open behind her. Villanelle turned her head to see that Eve’s apartment door was opened. With a deep, silent inhale and exhale, she gathered herself and walked inside.

\----

There, inside Eve’s disheveled apartment, complete with old packages of crisps and empty glasses of red wine, they stood in silence. Villanelle took a few steps toward the table and picked up the half-eaten container of take-out. She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“How have you been, Eve?”

“How do you think I’ve been? You shot me and left me for dead. I’m sure you know that Niko’s left me. And Kenny … was murdered.”

“I’m sorry.”

She could see the words caught Eve completely off guard, which stung a little.

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, I’m sorry your friend is dead.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re sorry for? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Do you really want to talk about this now?”

“Of course, I do. You are a complete asshole if you came here expecting anything different.”

“I didn’t come here expecting anything. I just wanted to see you.” _That was a lie._

Eve let out an exasperated breath. “That’s a lie.”

“You’re right. You know why I’m here. Why did you do it, Eve? Why did you kiss me?”

“I was trying to defend myself. You were crushing me and you were going to hurt me.”

“You know that’s not true. I told you, I wasn’t here for you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. You’re the one who attacked me. That was very sexy by the way.”

“Well I’m glad you liked it. How was I supposed to know you hadn’t come back to try and kill me again?”

“I did like it. And come on, you have to know I never meant to kill you. I’m a much better shot than that. But you hurt me. You hurt me more than anyone ever has. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not that! You don’t kill someone when you don’t get your way.”

Villanelle raised her eyebrow at that puzzling statement. “Yes, I do. I’m an assassin. That’s literally what I do.”

“Well you didn’t have to shoot me! You could have just walked away. I spent months in hospital. There was shrapnel in my body, it took surgery, a huge fucking scar and months of rehab just to move my arm again.”

Villanelle grabbed the fabric of her shirt and pulled it up to reveal her own scar, the one that Eve had given her in Paris. “A scar, like this one?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“No, you can’t. Not … not now.”

“Fine.” Villanelle let her shirt drop from her hands and tucked it back into her leather pants. They stood wordlessly again, just staring at each other. Villanelle finally cut the painful silence.

“Why did you kiss me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Yes, Eve, you do. I know what you want.”

“You couldn’t possibly know what I want.”

Villanelle took two steps toward Eve, and in turn, Eve backed away from her. Villanelle frowned at her and puffed out her lower lip.

“Why are you back now? Where were you all this time?”

“Well, for one, I did think you were dead. I’ve been getting on with my life, moving on and moving up.”

“What the hell does that even mean? Are you back with the Twelve?”

“We both know that you already know that answer, Eve.”

“Fine. Why are you killing again, now? Why weren’t you killing before? What changed?”

“I’ve only recently started working for the Twelve again, on my terms.”

“You can’t possibly believe that?”

“Of course not, but they pay well.”

“They’ve also forced you out, left you in prison and tried to kill you at least once.”

“Not much different from what you’ve done to me.”

“It’s completely different.”

“No, it’s the same.”

Eve dropped her arms to her side, walked over to her bed and sat.

_Finally._

Villanelle slowly stepped toward Eve, and her bed. She paused, waited. After a moment, Eve raised her arm and motioned for Villanelle to sit.

“You’re not going to stab me again, are you?” 

“No.”

A smug smile appeared on Villanelle’s face. Eve shook her head in response.

“You really are a smug dick, you know that?”

“That’s harsh.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Maybe I am. But so are you. You did kiss me and immediately proceeded to head-butt me.”

“You’re right, and I can do it again.”

Villanelle looked Eve up and down, slowly, and raised her right eyebrow. “Please do.”

She wrapped her arms around Eve’s waist and coolly spun her so they were face to face once again, inches from one another.

“I’m not going to kiss you a ----“ Enough talking, Villanelle thought. She grabbed Eve’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her. They both kept their eye open, again, but only for an instant. It was too much for Villanelle, she wanted to savor the moment, so she closed her eyes and continued to kiss Eve. Much to her pleasure, Eve put her right arm on Villanelle’s thigh and kissed her back. No, not just kiss her back, Eve’s tongue pushed past her lips and found Villanelle’s.

She lowered Eve down toward the bed and followed her, their mouths still locked together. She pushed her left hand down onto Eve’s right, their fingers interlocked. Villanelle bit at Eve’s lip, which earned the slightest moan in response. Encouraged, she moved onto Eve’s neck. Her tongue traced up Eve’s jawline and back to her lips.

As the intensity of their kiss increased, Villanelle reached out and steadied her right arm against the windowsill behind the bed. In that instant, Eve reached up for Villanelle’s shoulders, pushed her over, and proceeded to sit with her full force on Villanelle’s hips.

_Fuck. That was hot._

They continued to kiss and Eve’s hands fumbled down toward the buttons of Villanelle’s shirt. In response, she moved her hand up to Eve’s breast and squeezed. Eve was down to the last button on Villanelle’s shirt, kissing her down her chest and abdomen as she went.

Villanelle inhaled deeply, and as she did, she caught the scent of her Roman Centurion perfume in the air. The aromas snapped her mind out of the fog that filled her head anytime she was around Eve Polastri, and remembered back to her initial plans for their encounter on the bus. _Power._

_She couldn’t give into this now and give Eve all of the power. Eve needed to come to her and admit her feelings. After Rome, after everything, she had to do that. Why did Eve always make her crazy and question every move she made?_

Without thinking any further, she pulled herself upright and grabbed Eve’s hands. Eve looked up at her, confused, her beautiful curls framing her face perfectly.

“That’s enough.”

“Are you kidding me? You are fucking joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking. I got what I came here for. Besides, I’m married now.” She began to button her shirt back up as she moved off the bed. Villanelle walked toward the door.

“Wow. You really are a total asshole …. Wait, did you just say you’re married?”

“You’re an asshole too, Eve. Don’t forget, we’re the same. We both know that we’ll see each other again soon enough, then we can continue this. And yes, I am married … to a rich and beautiful woman in Spain.”

“This isn’t going to happen again and I can’t ...I can't believe you got married! How the hell does an assassin get married?”

Villanelle put her hand on the door and turned the handle. Without looking back she said, “We both know this is going to happen again.”

_But next time, you have to come to me._

She walked out the door and as quickly as she could, made her way to the stairs. She didn’t want to look back, couldn’t look back. If she did, she’d be weak. Eve was going to come to her next time.


	2. I Can’t Stop Watching Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villaneve goes viral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of meta in this chapter, and hopefully everyone finds this chapter to be fun read.
> 
> Also, I LOVE that Villanelle refers to Niko as "the moustache." I had to use it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Villanelle opened the door to her Barcelona villa and listened for any sign of Dasha. She knew it was only a matter of time before the bitter old woman complained about her work, _yet again._

She walked over to her wardrobe and carefully hung her new couture pieces from London. Villanelle then pulled her perfume from its velvet-lined box, opened the cap and inhaled the scent once more. She laughed and shook her head dramatically, “Oh Eve.”

She undressed, picked out her Camilla magenta floral print silk robe and walked to the bathroom for a much-deserved hot shower. _I wonder what Eve is thinking now? Is she still playing that damn recording? I hope she is. She definitely masturbated to the sound of my voice._ She turned on the water, locked the bathroom door behind and stepped into the cloud of steam. Villanelle didn’t want to be disturbed by Dasha or anyone else …

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stepped out of the shower, turned off the water and donned her robe. Villanelle walked over to the steam-covered mirror, wiped it with a towel and stared at her own reflection. She wasn’t quite sure what her expression was or what it meant – Villanelle could see weightlessness in her appearance, like someone had removed the heavy shroud that previously enveloped her. Villanelle was beginning to dislike that mirrors betrayed her, but only ever so slightly, and only when she thought too much.

After a few long moments of staring at a face she hadn’t seen before, she blinked, stuck out her tongue, retracted it, and slowly turned her head to the right, then the left. She traced her index and middle finger along her jaw line from her ear to her chin.

“Nice face.” _That’s better._ She exited the bathroom and made her way to the kitchen. 

She grabbed a bright, fresh red tomato, a bottle of olive oil and walked to the counter. She picked up the large, serrated bread knife and cut two slices of bread. Villanelle placed the bread in the toaster then sliced the tomato to pieces with her assassin’s precision. As the toast popped up from the toaster, she recognized the faint sounds of Dasha’s footsteps.

_This is going to be so boring. Do I have to do this now?_ Dasha never let her laugh or joke the way Konstantin had. But Konstantin was also the one who’d betrayed her so many times she’d lost count. _What would he say about Eve kissing me? He’d probably be annoyed and say that I would become unfocused again._

Dasha made her way into the kitchen as Villanelle rubbed the tomato slices across her toast and finished it off with a thin layer of the golden-green olive oil.

“How was London?”

“Easy, one shot and done. I am overqualified for a job like that.”

“Oh, it was easy?”

“Yes, he was just sitting in a car. I didn’t even get to run him down with my motorcycle. It’s no fun when they don’t run.”

“I see.  
Why do you make thing so difficult for me?”

“What do you mean, I did exactly what was asked of me, and I wasn’t _sloppy.”_

“You weren’t sloppy, HA! You silly girl, you are so close to your promotion, to all the power you ask for … but you throw it away like a loser.”

“I’m not throwing anything away. I went to London and I did the job.”

Dasha took her phone from her pocket, entered her password, then pulled up a previously played video on her Youtube app.

“What do you have to say about this?” She turned the phone toward Villanelle.

“I’m surprised that you know how to use an app.” 

“What does this look like to you, Villanelle?”

Dasha played the video. It was an erratically shot, overly pixelated video of her encounter with Eve on the bus. I _hope they caught her kissing me, I’d like to see that again._

“Well, I am waiting. How do you explain this video?” 

As she finished the sentence, there it was, unmistakably. Documented video footage of Eve Polastri kissing her. And then the head-butt, followed by Villanelle’s quick stagger past the camera and dismount out the doors of the moving bus. 

The title of the video was, **“Girls Fight, Snog and Headbutt on London Bus.”** _That is the most tragically unoriginal title. This was a work of art and should have a title to befit the power of the moment._

She smiled exaggeratedly, shrugged her shoulders and said, “I’m not sure what it is, maybe I need to watch it again? But the tall one, the blonde, she’s very pretty. And the other woman has great hair.” 

“I thought you said you dealt with this?”

“I did, and I don’t know those people in the video. I’ve never seen them before. But you can play it again, just so I can make sure.”

“Oh, you think this is funny, like it’s some kind of joke? You make a fool of yourself for idiots who sit on their phones all day to watch. This is not the attention the Twelve want and they will not make you a keeper when you continue to work like this. **Fix it!”**

“Ok, ok, I’ll take care of it.” Villanelle rolled her eyes and went back to her toast.

Dasha turned on her heals, zipped up her track top, threw her hands and phone into her pockets and exited the villa.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly dark, and Villanelle had watched the Youtube video of her kiss with Eve at least fifty different times throughout the afternoon. She’d even left a few comments:

SorryBabyX: *blowing kiss emoji* *bus emoji* *flame emoji*

Mov_OVR_moustache: *heart eyes emoji* *smiling face with horns emoji*

_I wonder whether Eve knows about this video? She’ll hate that this is online, she won’t know how to handle it._ She had to find out just how crazy the reaction would be. It would definitely be dramatic and hilarious. But it would also be … _adorable._

Villanelle sat up in her bed, put her feet on the floor, leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. She scrolled through her list of contacts – she bought a new phone after Rome, but she had the salesperson move some of her stored contacts to the new phone, including Eve. Despite the months they were apart, the time she’d spent trying to convince herself that she was fine, Eve’s number was still there. She could never delete her.

_Does she still have the same phone number?_ Eve wouldn’t have changed it. She would have kept it the same for the moustache. At least, that’s probably what she told herself. Villanelle knew though, the truth was that Eve would have kept her number the same in case she ever tried to contact her again. She drafted her text:

…

_“Have you seen the video …”_ No, that wasn’t right. [delete]

_“Can u believe were viral!!?!!  
*bus emoji* *siren emoji* *lipstick print emoji*”_

She hit send.

She stared at her phone for at least ten minutes.

And then she saw it … _Eve was typing._

…

Then it stopped.

After a few minutes …

… 

_This should be interesting._

…

Then it stopped again.

… 

_She really doesn’t know what to say, does she?_

…

The reply finally came through on her screen:

_“I have a new phone and lost my contacts. Who is this?”_

Villanelle gave the biggest eye roll imaginable. “Sure, Eve. If you say so.”

…

_“The expression is actually – new phone who dis”_

…

_“Dis? What is that supposed to mean?”_

She knew Eve was avoiding the real question, as expected.

…

“ _Have u seen it?”_

…

…

_“No, but someone at Bitter Pill found it online.”_ She definitely watched it. At least twice.

…

_“Personally, I would have chosen a different title. Some people lack the creative flair these things deserve  
*smirk face emoji*  
What did u say 2 ur colleagues?”_

…

_“I haven’t told them anything.”_

_Eve was going to be extra dramatic about this._ Villanelle preferred it that way. 

…

_“What am I even supposed to tell them, it’s all over the bloody internet!”_

…

_“All over?_  
_R there GIFs?_  
_R we a meme?”_

…

_“Could you possibly make this any more difficult?”_

…

_“You’re the only person having difficulty with this”_

…

…

_“I’m going to have Bear take it down.”_

It was gut wrenching to read that. She didn’t know who Bear was, _stupid name_ , but she hated him and wanted to kill him already.

…

…

_“Villanelle?”_

…

_“Ok, Eve”_

Dejected, Villanelle walked over to the fridge and snatched up one of the cold bottles of Piper Heidsieck champagne. She removed the foil and muselet, twisted off the cork and poured a large glass. As she sipped on the bubbles, Villanelle was dumbfounded that Eve Polastri had again managed to turn the tables. 

In a day’s time, she’d gone from the highest elation with every advantage, to her current low. She was acutely aware that Eve would know she was disappointed by the exchange. _Why was she always able to do that? It was infuriating, and it was also intoxicating._

After she finished off the last of the champagne, Villanelle walked back to her bedroom. She picked up her phone and planned to watch the video one last time.

She pressed the home button and saw that she missed two more texts from Eve. She entered her password and opened the messages:

_“Maybe you should send this to your wife.”_

Villanelle chuckled out loud as she read it. That was so good. _Eve is sooo jealous. She loves me._

_“And what the hell was that, throwing yourself off a moving bus?”_

She’d barely had time to steady herself when she pushed through the bus doors and out onto the street yesterday; Villanelle was impressed that she was able find her balance quickly enough with the way her head spun from Eve’s head-butt and her kiss. 

…

_“I’m quite agile and limber, Eve. Happy to show you.”_

Villanelle set her phone on the nightstand and climbed into bed. She contemplated the next phase of her relationship with Eve. There was no going back now. _But maybe I should save the video and send it to the moustache._


	3. Like a Mirage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V's promotion is getting complicated.
> 
> \---
> 
> My goal is to update with two chapters per week until this is finished, in the event you’re interested in subscribing.
> 
> FYI, I’m trying to work within the existing plot constraints post-S3E3 but want to button up the $$ issue and a few others as quickly and sensibly as I can. I actually had this chapter written and ready to go before E4, let me know if I'm getting it right.
> 
> Notes are at the end.

#### LIMASSOL

Villanelle posted herself at the refueling station just before the 35km mark. Her target, a 41-year old lawyer in bib number 2318, was headed her way according the marathon’s far too convenient runner tracking app. She had been waiting there, dressed in disguise wearing hideous green VOLUNTEER cotton t-shirt and surgical gloves to blend in among the others handing out cups of water and electrolytes to the sweating, breathless runners.

She never intended to stand at the aid table that long, or to actually pass out refreshments to the runners, but Giorgas Ioannou slowed at the 20km mark to a snail’s pace of 5:51 per km. _I don’t have all day to wait on this slouch. I’m too good for these menial tasks._ Dasha insisted that an incident-free kill would ensure her promotion to keeper. 

_This better be the last time I have to do this. When I’m keeper, I’ll create my own squad of assassin minions. Maybe I should recruit Irina? Konstantin would probably pay me to taker her off his hands. She is such an asshole, but she has style._

She checked the tracking app again; out-of-shape bib 2318 was finally near the refueling station. Villanelle grabbed one of the paper cups from the table that had been pre-filled with water. She quickly removed the small vile from her left glove, unscrewed the cap, and dumped the poisonous contents into the cup.

“Water?” 

She handed the toxic cup to Giorgas as he ran by. Villanelle watched as he slowed his running to a walk and glugged down every drop of the water. He crushed and tossed the cup aside among the mounds other discarded beverages and started to ease back into a jog. Within 50 meters, Giorgas dropped to the road with a fit of convulsions. Spectators, volunteers and other runners made their way to the fallen runner who wore bib 2318 and tried to render assistance.

Pleased with her work, Villanelle slowly backed away from the table. She stripped off the horrific t-shirt and revealed a tangerine Lululemon tank top with bib number 1171 pinned to the front and black Nike running shorts. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, found an opening within the pack of runners and joined the race. Villanelle pushed her way across the road to catch a better glimpse of the swarm of people who stood around the now-dead Giorgas. She smirked as she ran by and picked up her pace. Villanelle decided to finish the race because she could use a good workout. _I should keep up my fitness for the next time I see Eve._

She cruised across the finish line with 03:46 on the clock. Villanelle collected her blue and yellow finishers medal, mylar blanket, and picked up a cookie and apple from the array of food for marathoners. She ducked under the caution tape and made her exit. _If they don’t make me keeper after this, I’m demanding a raise and paid vacations._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stopped for churros at a food cart along the promenade in La Barceloneta. As she walked away with her paper cone full of fried dough, she was acutely aware someone was following her.

Villanelle walked a few blocks then made her way inside a souvenir shop. She moved casually up and down the aisles lined with gimmicky shirts and trinkets. A few moments later, Konstantin entered the store. She ducked and hid in one of the t-shirt racks. After Konstantin walked past, Villanelle stepped out into the aisle and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s not polite to follow someone like this.” She folded her arms to mimic him.

“It was very rude to leave without a goodbye.”

Villanelle rolled her eyes. “You’re the rude one. You said I was a bulbous baby.”

“It was a long time ago and you were very pixelated. Listen, that accountant you killed, he worked for the Twelve and lost their money. And the 6 million euros I told you I had to find.”

“So?” Villanelle yawned.

“The money was stolen and sent to another account in Cyprus that belongs to a business in my name. Someone set me up.”

“Did you find what I asked for?”

“Not yet.”

“Then is there a point to your story?”

“I need your help.”

**“Off the record,”** they said simultaneously. 

“Such bullshit.” 

“This is serious. I need you to find out what Carolyn and Dasha know. I will figure out who did this.”

The thought of going back to see Eve was extremely enticing, but Villanelle knew Konstantin was baiting her with talk of London. She picked up a souvenir bull figurine and pointed it in his face. He let a deep belly laugh, it was his tell.

“You’re lying to me _again_ , Konstantin. When I’m your boss, I’ll dock your salary for insubordination.” 

“I need time to fix this.”

Konstantin walked out of the store.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Villanelle returned to her villa, picked up the mail and read another note from Dasha:

>   
>  _Will be back in a few days. Don’t do anything stupid._  
> 

She had an opening to get back to London now, but she wasn’t ready to forgive Konstantin, to help him, and she needed Eve to come to her. _It was Konstantin’s fault things ended so poorly in Rome._

He couldn’t be trusted and Villanelle knew he was keeping something from her. He always hid the truth and by coming to her to beg for help, she would be putting herself at risk if she followed him. _Konstantin made it clear that I never meant enough to him to save, why should I save him now?_

He hadn’t even bothered to find the information she wanted about her family. True to form, Konstantin was only worried about himself. While Villanelle calculated all these factors, she remembered what Carolyn, the impressive boss lady with excellent coats, had said to her in prison.

>   
>  “Konstantin is like a mirage. If you get too close, there’s only barren desert. I can offer you an alternative if you’re ever interested.”  
> 

She ignored the warning initially but her instincts caused her to think of it now. Villanelle decided she wouldn’t help him this time.

After sorting through the mail, she inspected the small package addressed to her. It had no sender listed on the label. She walked to the kitchen and sliced open the packing tape with a knife. Villanelle opened the box to find a burner phone. She turned it on, and there was already a text.

_“I don’t know who I can trust.  
Use this to contact me.  
No one else can know.  
-X”_

It was impossible to contain her excitement. Villanelle punched her arms back and forth in the air and high-kneed across the room. This was the first gift Eve had sent her and the first of any kind she’d received in years. She tried to resist the urge to reply immediately, but couldn’t help herself. Villanelle’s eyes were glassy as she typed.

…

_“K  
*lick emoji* *sweat droplets emoji*”_ [delete]

…

_“K  
*winking emoji*”_

Hours later, Eve responded.

_“We need to meet  
Urgent”_

…

_“TMW  
I’ll find u”_

Villanelle went to her wardrobe and laid out her ensemble for tomorrow’s rendezvous. She was meticulous with her choice of a navy and gold floral bouquet pattern embroidered Gucci suit, cream and gold silk embroidered Chloe shirt and hazelnut brown leather studded Chloe short boots.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sat on a bench outside of Shadbourne House and waited for Eve to arrive. Villanelle watched as people moved in and out to their various offices. Finally, Eve came into her view and a few seconds later, Villanelle walked to the doors to greet her with a paper bag in hand. _Her hair is still down!_

“Croissant?”

“Sure.” Eve’s fingers grazed Villanelle’s when she reached in the bag for a pastry.

_Breathe. Don’t make the first move._

They walked to the lift, waited for the doors to open and simultaneously entered the car. Villanelle walked to the center while Eve pressed the button for the top floor and moved toward the right corner of the lift. When the doors closed, they turned to face each other and stared silently. The tension was palpable.

When the elevator hit the second floor, the doors opened and a balding, middle-aged man in Dockers shuffled awkwardly between the women. _Would Eve be upset if I suffocated this idiot with my croissant?_ Luckily, balding Dockers man exited the lift at the next floor. _So lazy to ride the lift one floor, I should have killed him._ Eve and Villanelle rode the elevator to the top floor, then Eve led the way to the roof.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. You said you needed me.” Villanelle smirked.

“I said I needed to meet you actually.”

“Whatever you say, Eve.”

“I know you’ve killed two people in the last week.”

Villanelle raised a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t keep count.”

“One man was the accountant for the Twelve. He lost 6 million euros. We traced the money to an account that belongs to Konstantin. The other man you killed, he set up the business and account in Konstantin’s name.”

_Eve is so impressive. She’s working more quickly than Konstantin anticipated._

“I might have heard something about missing money.”

_Why is she talking to me about money? I didn’t come back to London to talk about Konstantin or money. I didn’t come here to talk at all._

“Who ordered the hits? Whoever it was, they know something about Kenny’s murder. Was it Konstantin?”

“It wasn’t Konstantin.”

“Who sent you? It couldn’t be the Twelve.”

“They were the same as all my other jobs. Target and location, I don’t ask questions.” As she said the words, Villanelle realized Dasha had lied to her again.

“Are you still working with Konstantin?”

“No, Dasha sent me.” Konstantin was right about her.

“Dasha?”

“Yes, she’s my new handler.” She clenched her fist and ground her teeth as the anger swelled.

“Who is she? I need more information.”

“I have to go now.” She handed the croissant bag to Eve but refused to make eye contact.

The all too familiar feelings of fury and betrayal washed over Villanelle. She walked to the door and left the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked a marathon as the location of this kill because I wanted to put V in a running/exercise scenario since I’m an avid runner and I thought it would be entertaining to think about her on a crowded race course.
> 
> 5:51/km pace is a very respectable 4:06:50 marathon finishing time. But I figured V would probably be a dick about it and call her target slow anyhow.
> 
> Trying to write lines for Carolyn was quite difficult. I’m not sure I hit the target with how enigmatic she can be.


	4. The First Loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V takes a loss, but in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to update the content rating for this chapter. Be forewarned.

Villanelle raced down the stairs of Shadbourne House and could hear Eve yelling after her.

“Wait! Stop!”

Emotions bubbled within her, despite her best efforts to move on and mask her pain. On the landing of the fourth floor, Villanelle stopped.

“What is it Eve?” Her voice was full of anguish.

“Talk to me.” Eve walked to meet her on the landing.

_She is just using me again, nothing has changed. Villanelle turned to face Eve with tears in her eyes._

“I can’t help you!”

“Can’t or won’t? I have to know what happened.”

_Why is she doing this? Walk away._

“I came here for you! I told you everything I know! Are you just trying to use me again? What more do you want from me?” Villanelle was yelling now. The usual façade she wore like armour was melted away and she could see that the change in her demeanor caught Eve off guard. With all of her power lost, she turned back toward the stairs to retreat.

Eve reached out, clutched her wrist and made Villanelle face her again.

“I want everything.” She reached up and wiped a tear Villanelle’s left cheek.

_You already have it._

Villanelle was simultaneously comforted, broken and turned on by the touch. She moved her head and kissed the palm of Eve’s hand. There was something that hung in the air between them, unspoken feelings neither was going to say. 

She stepped closer so that the occupied the same space and brushed her lips to Eve’s ear. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

_Dammit._

Villanelle took Eve’s hand and led her inside the first room she could find, the fourth floor common room. All the ideas about losing some advantage she had manifested were gone and her mind was racing with thoughts of need and desire. Once inside, Eve locked the door. While the sound of the lock’s click hung in the air, Villanelle’s fingers ran through Eve’s hair. She pulled ever so slightly, kissed her neck and felt the heat that radiated from her skin. 

Eve turned and drove Villanelle toward the blue cushioned couch. While she walked backwards, she grabbed Eve’s sweatshirt and pulled her close. Villanelle made contact with her lips and they kissed deeply, passionately, their tongues connecting and colliding. Interlocked, Villanelle’s legs hit the side of the couch and she sat on the arm. Eve unbutton Villanelle’s jacket and pushed it off her shoulders. 

She started to unzip Eve’s sweatshirt and felt the sting as Eve bit her lower lip hard enough to leave a bruise. The zipper on the grey sweatshirt was stuck briefly and she forced it down in frenzy. Villanelle pushed it off and threw it across the room. The sweatshirt caught the light from the window as it hit the ground. She continued and pulled at Eve’s shirt, which revealed yet another shirt underneath. Villanelle snickered.

“How many shirts do you wear?”

“Shut up.” She hurriedly pulled Eve’s second shirt over her head and discarded it aimlessly.

Eve then started to work at the buttons of Villanelle’s shirt. She could hear the sound of her heart racing faster and faster as hands moved further down with each button. Before her shirt was off, she pulled Eve’s thigh up toward her own hips, spun them both and forced them onto the couch, their bodies pressed together. Villanelle kissed her way lightly down Eve’s neck to her collarbone. She then pushed herself back up onto her knees, finished her final few buttons and threw her shirt among the increasing collection of clothes throughout the common room. 

Eve sat up to meet her and traced her fingers across Villanelle’s abdomen. The sheer intensity of it was nearly overwhelming. She could feel the yearning and need swelling in her body with the touch of each fingertip grazing along her stomach. Villanelle looked longingly into Eve’s eyes, she was full of nerves and wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe anymore. _Stay calm._

She reached for Eve’s hands and laced their fingers together as they leaned back into the couch cushions. Villanelle pressed her thigh between Eve’s legs hard, and felt them tense and grind against her. _Fuck._ She kissed her breastbone and traced her tongue up toward the hollow of Eve’s throat. 

Villanelle inhaled slowly and let the tip of her nose graze the left side of her neck while she reminisced briefly of the first time they were this close. The memorized feelings of intrigue and arousal at the discovery that Eve was wearing the perfume Villanelle had given her when they first met flooded her mind. This is so much better. She bit at Eve’s earlobe and freed her right hand so she could use her middle and ring fingers to slide a bra strap down over Eve’s shoulder. 

There was a pang of electricity when she felt fingernails rake down her back. Villanelle let a small growl escape with her breath. Then she shuddered when Eve’s hands moved from the small of her back, around her hips, toward her pelvis. _Oh, shit._ She kissed along the top of Eve’s breasts while she moved one hand under her back to unclasp her bra. As she pulled the bra off, she sat up again to get a full view of her hardened nipples, but within an instant, her thoughts flashed white-hot when Eve lifted herself up to join her began to unbutton Villanelle’s pants. 

She pushed her back into the couch with one hand pressed across Eve’s stomach and started to unzip her jeans with the other. Villanelle could feel Eve kicking off her sneakers underneath her and it caused her to flash a mischievous gin. She forced the jeans down just enough to allow for room to maneuver. She inhaled and exhaled deeply to stay composed though her entire body was racing.

She used her teeth and fingers to pull back the fabric of Eve’s underwear and could feel how wet she is. Her tongue and lips tasted the warmth of her labia. She felt Eve’s hips start to slow roll up and down with each movement of her mouth. 

“Fuck,” was the moan Villanelle heard as she slid her fingers inside her and slowly worked each of her digits around to find the most sensitive spots. She once again felt Eve’s fingernails dig into her skin, this time it was her left shoulder. Villanelle began to suck at her clit and used her free arm to reposition her hips ever so slightly. There was a loud thud as Eve reached back across the arm of the couch to brace herself. 

She reveled in each additional twitch and movement she could feel beneath her. Villanelle pressed her mouth and fingers even deeper. The intoxicating responses made her ravenous for more. 

Then she felt Eve’s body tense sharply. And she heard a long, intense moan as she continued to suck and lick at her clit while Eve rode the wave of her orgasm. With the sound of a deep, dramatic exhale, Villanelle raised her head slightly to admire her work. 

“I told you this would happen again.” Villanelle wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and revealed her wry smile.

“Don’t be a such a prick.”

Villanelle kissed her way up Eve’s stomach and chest, then to her lips. She kissed her with all the passion that existed in her being. But their perfect moment was quickly broken when Eve’s phone rang repeatedly. She ached for more time she knew she wouldn’t receive. _You ruined my life again, Eve Polastri._

“Ignore that.”

She saw Eve fidget at her wedding band out of the corner of her eye. Villanelle pretended not to notice, but it killed her.

“I can’t. I have to go to work.” 

“Do you even work here?” 

Villanelle pulled away and sighed. There were no longer thoughts of possession for the woman she’d spent so much time obsessing over. Instead, she felt like she didn’t belong to herself anymore. It felt terrifying, and nothing about it was powerful or freeing.

She stood up from the couch and walked around the room to collect the discarded layers. She handed Eve her clothes and tried to project her bravado. 

“Seriously, why do you wear so many shirts?” 

Her question was met with an exaggerated eye roll and silence.

There was a dull twinge of pain in her shoulder. Villanelle walked over to the room’s mirror and inspected the series of deep scratches Eve had given her.

“You really like to attack shoulders, don’t you?” Villanelle raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Stop being so smug about this.”

She pulled her shirt on and buttoned it up as she watched Eve get dressed. Then, Eve handed Villanelle her blazer and started to walk for the door. She threw the jacket on and stuck her hands in her pockets.

“Do be sure to come again, Eve.”

Without turning around, Eve shook her head and threw up her middle finger.

_Is this what love is supposed to be? I hate it._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Villanelle went to Konstantin’s flat to kill time; she also desperately needed to find out what he was actually up to. He was obviously lying to her and trying to manipulate her to go back to London, but she couldn’t be sure why. There was no reason for him to ask her to watch Carolyn, and he certainly had to know that she never would. That she would go to Eve was surely part of his calculation. She let herself in and examined the first level to no avail.

Next, Villanelle made her way up the winding staircase and rummaged through his closet and travel bag. She pulled a small recording device from the bag to inspect it. The discovery was hardly shocking, and in fact, it was likely Konstantin had eavesdropped on her conversations countless times over their years together. Villanelle doubted that he was snooping in on her in Barcelona, but whomever it was that he was recording, she knew it would be some part of his larger scheming. 

She sat for over an hour and listened at the voices on the queued tape. Some of the people she overheard were easy to place. Carolyn could be heard numerous times waxing on her various random musings. There were other voices she’d never heard before, one in particular that must be Carolyn’s daughter, who appeared to be particularly whiny. 

Villanelle also heard Eve’s voice in her ears several times and the idea that Konstantin had been spying on her was enraging. _Son of a bitch._ Even though it was to be expected from him, she still felt compelled to stab him for it.

As she contemplated how to make her next move with this information, Villanelle felt a knot turn in her stomach. There was some degree of certainty in her mind that Konstantin knew about Eve’s friend. She desperately wanted to help Eve. 

But there was also part of her that still clung to Konstantin. He was the closest thing to family she had. Even though he’d left her in Rome, she could not do the same to him.

_I have to find him before anyone else does._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Villanelle walked to her vanity, sat and stared in the mirror, and she instantly thought back to Eve. _Why does she always have to do that to me?_ Everything about her was simultaneously empowering and disarming. She was elated that the tension between them had finally manifested itself several times over and that Eve was nearly free. But it was especially grating to know that she’d spent six months trying to work herself up to a place where she was untouchable, only to throw it away willingly just to be with her. 

She debated with herself again about whether to tell Eve that Konstantin was recording in Carolyn’s home. She didn’t want to keep this from her, yet she was certain Eve would use the evidence to further her investigation, most likely to Konstantin’s detriment. It was painful to think that cared so much about both of them, despite all they had done to her. She wanted to protect them.

Villanelle’s gaze was broken when Dasha arrived. She was having enough difficulty trying to deal with all her mixed emotions about Eve and Konstantin, she didn’t want to stomach more lies and betrayal. There was no way for her to forget that Dasha had sent her to kill people who framed her mentor for something he hadn’t actually done. _I’m going to kill her._

“They have another job for you.”

Villanelle turned and took the next postcard without a word.

“What happened to you? You look like shit. Your face will stick like that if you aren’t careful.”

“You said I was going to be finished with the last one. I’m tired and I need a break.”

“Breaks are for the dead. And you are the best they have.”

“Let someone else be the best for a change.”

“Second place is the first loser, Villanelle. You are too good for that.”

_I should just strangle her and get it over with._ She inspected the postcard from Valencia.

“When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow. But if you do this well, I will talk with them and tell them to let you take a few days for holiday.”

“Fine. I’ll do it. You can go now.” She gestured toward the door.

After Dasha left the villa, Villanelle waited, then decided to pursue her. There was no way she would allow herself to be led along in this charade any further. If she could find out what Dasha was up to, it might also give her clarity about Konstantin’s plans.

Within a few minutes, she caught up to the older woman. _Good thing she is so old and slow._ Dasha was standing in a plaza and talking to a slender, well-dressed woman, with reddish brown hair, and in her early 40’s. Villanelle had never seen the woman before. She observed them closely and saw the unknown woman pass a manila envelope to Dasha as they parted.

_Is she part of the Twelve?_

Villanelle attempted to follow the woman, but after she rounded a corner, she saw her get into a black sedan that sped away.


	5. Casualties in War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The build-up.

#### VALENCIA

#### 

The water glistened in a perfect shade of blue while she lounged in black Rebecca Virtue one-piece bathing suit with a deep v-neck cut and lace overlay. Villanelle was getting a bit of sun and killing time as she heard sounds from the nearby yacht. She pulled her tortoise shell sunglasses up on top of head to watch people shuffle onto the ship’s deck for their meal. Villanelle’s latest target was among the group – a tall, slender middle-aged man with terrible facial hair. He was a major political donor for a regional opposition candidate.

When she saw his photo for the first time, her thoughts carried her to Eve’s husband. He had the same horrid moustache. After the heartache she felt when she watched Eve think of him, Villanelle decided she was take extra pleasure in her current assignment. Though Niko had never been an impediment in their pursuit of one another, Eve forced herself to hold onto him to suppress who she really was.

She rubbed her thumb over the scar Eve had given her. Villanelle worried that Eve would push her away, and she couldn’t be rejected again. This would have to be Eve’s choice to come to her, and she couldn’t press matters in her favor any longer. She had learned from Rome. 

The laughter radiating from the yacht brought Villanelle back to the task at hand. She tossed her sunglasses on the floor of the deck and pulled her hair back into a bun. Then she walked onto the nose of the boat and dove into the water. Villanelle swam the distance to the yacht and climbed up the ladder. 

She tiptoed her way through the cabin, careful to avoid detection by the crew. On her way to the living quarters, Villanelle opened all of the closets and found a towel. During her search, she also found diving gear and fishing equipment. She cut herself a strand of fishing line then moved onto the living quarters and waited in the master suite for her target to arrive. The suite was quite impressive, though rather tacky, with its ostentatious gold nautical décor. She tossed the now-wet towel on the bed and studied the suite’s contents.

When faux-Niko finally decided to make his entrance, Villanelle was far too annoyed with how long she was made to wait on him, and didn’t bother with niceties or chit chat. She punched him square in the nose, stepped behind him, wrapped the fishing line around his neck and pulled as hard as she could. When his body fell limp, Villanelle gave another strong tug at the wire, then let him fall to the floor. 

“Goodbye, Niko. Your shepherd’s pie was never that good.”

Villanelle rolled the dead man over and stared at the damned moustache. It was mocking her, _that fucking moustache_ , and she couldn’t stand it. She dragged faux-Niko to the bathroom and rummaged for his shaving kit. Devoid of care and grace, Villanelle shaved the moustache off his upper lip. 

_I really hate moustaches._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She paced through the villa in her blue-grey Samantha Chang floral print silk robe and waited for Dasha’s inevitable drop-in. Villanelle was going to confront her about the clear off-the-books assignments, get answers, and then she’d kill her. 

The sound of the keys in the heavy wooden door was the signal that it was time to act. She grabbed a switchblade, hid it up within the dining table and sat. Dasha walked toward her with a suspicious grin on her face.

“They are very pleased with your work.”

_Bullshit._

“Are they going to make me a keeper now?”

“Forget about keeper, we are both moving to something much better. Pack a bag for Bordeaux.”

She rolled her eyes and moved her hand in a talking motion as she scoffed at all the false promises thrown her way.

“No. I don’t think so. I don’t believe any of your bullshit.”

“What do you mean you don’t think so? This is your time. They are ready to make their move and we are going to join them.”

_More bullshit._ She was having a hard time remaining calm.

“ _They?_ Who the hell are they?”

“You don’t need to know that. All you need to know is that they have more power than the Twelve and are taking over. And they want you to join them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“These plans require perfect timing and you were not prepared to join them. I informed you when I knew you could do it. It was my job to test you.”

In a flash, Villanelle reached for the knife, switched the blade free, leapt out of her seat and pressed it firmly against Dasha’s neck, and made sure she choked her just enough. 

“Tell me who They are before I slit your throat.”

Dasha didn’t bother to fight her.

“Four women from the Twelve. They are taking control of everything, and they want us.”

“And this group is so powerful they do not even have a name?”

“When they have it all, people will not need to use a name. They will just know who they are, who are you.”

“What do they want me to do?”

“Just continue to use your natural abilities.”

“And?”

“All you have to do is agree. This is a great opportunity. Everything you ever asked for.”

“What about Konstantin?”

“Ah, Konstantin. Do not worry about him. He is on the losing side this time. But you, you are about to get what you wanted. Money, power, beautiful apartments, you’ll have it all.”

“Who took the €6 million, and why does everyone think it was Konstantin.”

“There are always casualties in war. And wars are expensive. They have to fund their new operations.”

Villanelle pulled the knife away and stepped back to consider the offer. Konstantin had outrun death too many times, it was always going to catch up to him at some point. _I always thought I would be the one to have to do it again, eventually._

“There is one more thing you have to do for them.”

“Of course there is.”

_There’s always a catch._ She was certain this wouldn’t be the only one, either. More would come and they would be laced with pretense. It was inevitable, it was part of the game.

“Give up this obsession with Polastri. It makes you weak and it draws too much attention.”

Eve hadn’t even attempted to reach out after the last time they were together. No texts, not an effort to gain information for her search, nothing at all. She didn’t even bother to levy the usual accusations over her latest kill. This time, she knew Eve wasn’t temporarily preoccupied with work. She made a choice not to come back to Villanelle. She chose to hide in the remnants of her boring, shell of a life when everything was there for the taking. _I hate her for that._ But no matter how much she tried to convince herself of it, Villanelle couldn’t help but love her. _No, I don’t._

“Fine.” She grit her teeth as she said it.

“Good, now go pack a bag.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their car drove through the wrought iron gate and wound around to the entrance of the La Grande Maison de Bernard Magrez hotel in Bordeaux, France. Villanelle exited the vehicle in red and black leather Alexander McQueen studded jacket with a red Saint Laurent striped silk shirt, black linen Loewe pants with white piping and flared slits up the legs, and Angela Scott lugged oxfords. She and Dasha exited made their way to the check-in desk while the hotel staff retrieved the bags. _This is really nice._

She ran her fingers over the soft, silk curtains that hung from the hotel’s arched windows as she waited for Dasha to finish with the concierge. _Maybe I have moved up._ Villanelle did her best to remain focused on the opulence of her surroundings. It was all to her taste, but she wasn’t sure any of it still mattered. Someone had shown her none of this would make her quite happy enough.

As she wandered around the lobby, an attractive woman with dark, curly hair was sitting at the bar and looking her way. Villanelle tried to force a smile, but instead she turned her head away and walked back to Dasha, disappointedly apathetic at the idea of being with someone else. 

“Here, take your things to your room and meet me in the restaurant. We’re going to celebrate.”

Villanelle took her keys and mocked her handler’s awkward, overly exuberant smile.

After she threw her bag on the floor, she began what had become her traditional inspection of any hotel room. She started by pressing on the edge of the bed to test for proper spring. Then she raided the mini bar, successful in the search for a pre-dinner bite of chocolate. Lastly, Villanelle examined the bathrobes in the room and tested them each in turn to identify the most comfortable. Pleased with the results, she casually made her way to dinner.

Much like the rest of the hotel, the restaurant was expertly decorated. Walls of built-in bookcases and contrasting graffiti-style paintings framed the dining room of ten white clothed tables. Dasha was already seated at their table and pulling on a cigarette when Villanelle arrived.

“I already ordered our drinks, the most expensive wine on the menu tonight. We deserve it.”

“I will order my own drink.”

Villanelle picked up the wine list and listlessly reviewed it. All the choices and prices would have been at least somewhat exciting at one time. But they weren't with her present company.

Dasha took a long, deep drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke directly toward her. She coughed and fanned the wine list across her face to deflect the fumes away.

_This better be worth putting up with her._

“I need to use the bathroom.”

She pushed her chair back so quickly and so far that she hit one of the waiters, causing him to fall on the floor. Uninterested in savoring the waiter’s carelessness, Villanelle quickly walked to the ladies room and pushed the door open. 

She stood in front of the gilded mirror for several moments and took a deep breath. When the toilet door opened in the mirror’s reflection, her heart stopped.

“Hi, Villanelle.”


	6. I’m Here For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is soft.

Villanelle had to grab the sink to steady herself from the shock. There would never be any mistaking the reflection staring back at her in the bathroom mirror. She turned in slow motion and tried to force the surprise off of her face.

“Are you alright?”

“Wh – what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you.”

The words weren’t registering in her mind quickly enough, and Villanelle wiped invisible wrinkles out of her leather jacket. Then she placed her hands inside the piped pockets of her trousers in an effort mask her mini internal meltdown.

How many times are you going to fly back into my world like this?

“You’re in danger.”

“I am always in danger.”

“This is different. The Twelve know about the coup. We don’t have much time.”

The statements were so matter-of-fact, it was completely confusing.

“How do _you_ know about that?”

Before the words fully escaped her mouth, she knew exactly who the source of information would be. The same as it always was, _Konstantin._

“Konstantin told me. Give me your keys and meet me in your room. I’ll explain everything.”

“Okay.”

Villanelle was starting to lose count of the number of times she thought she had turned this invisible page in her life and tried to move on. But it always came back around.

She pulled her room keys from her pants pocket, handed them over without another word and walked back toward her table. Villanelle tried to think of an innocuous excuse to free her from the meal.

“I’m not feeling well. I am going back to my room.”

She held her arms over her stomach and hunched her shoulders to emphasize her fake sickness.

“No, you have stay and celebrate before our meeting tomorrow. You’ll be fine. Drink something.”

Angered, Villanelle took the lit cigarette from the ashtray and snuffed it out.

“Maybe if you hadn’t blown your stupid smoke in my face, I would not feel so sick.”

Dasha pulled out her pack of cigarettes and lit another.

“Fine. Go. Just make sure you’re ready tomorrow. You need to make a good impression.”

Villanelle was already out of the restaurant by the time Dasha had finished speaking. The distance between the restaurant and her room felt like it took forever to span, even though the hotel only had ten guest rooms.

She stood outside the door to her own room, the door marked with a number **3** , and paced back and forth for several minutes. Finally, Villanelle reached her fisted hand to knock on the door, but before she could, it quickly opened.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time to waste.”

She thought of a quick retort to hide how shaken she still was, yet again.

“You know, Eve, you really should have offered to buy me dinner before coming up to my room. Where are your manners?”

“Really?”

“You never even bothered to call.”

“First of all, I _did_ text you – multiple times yesterday. I was trying to warn you. But you never answered.”

She couldn't help but smile at that news.

“I may have broke the phone when I didn’t hear from you.”

“Are you serious?”

Villanelle lifted her palms toward the ceiling and gave an ever-so-innocent shrug of her shoulders.

“It was only six days. You’re so goddamn dramatic.” 

She could see the corners of Eve’s beautiful lips curl up slightly in a faint smile that betrayed the scolding. Villanelle had to smile in return.

“What did Konstantin tell you?”

“He said something about how some members of the Twelve were going to use you to make a power grab.”

“I see.”

“Why would you go along with this?”

“Why not? There is always someone trying to take over. I was promised more, so I agreed.”

There was an awkward silence in the air as Eve considered what Villanelle assumed was an obvious answer. 

“Eve, you know that Konstantin only told you this his benefit.”

“Yeah, of course I do. I don’t exactly know _what_ his plan is yet or who he’s planning with this time, but I did get that much.” 

“And did he tell you why he has been listening in at Carolyn’s home?”

“Wait! What? No!”

It probably wasn’t the best time to share that piece of information. Villanelle could see that the gears in Eve’s head were starting to spin.

“We’ll deal with him later. What is your plan now?”

The beautiful brunette’s face quickly changed to one of concern and slight confusion.

“Do you have any plan?”

“No, not really.”

Eve slumped into the room’s white desk chair. Rather than go to meet her, Villanelle backed away and sat at the foot of the bed. She hadn’t even had time to take in the sight of her until now. 

This was a slightly different look for Eve. She wore dark jeans and a form fitting, and somehow, almost flattering black turtleneck sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a loose, low ponytail, a few wild strands escaping to frame her face. There was something about the way Eve was carrying herself that seemed different. 

_Something is different._

As Villanelle’s eyes finished their slightly wicked once-over, she noticed Eve’s left hand resting on the back of the chair. Her ring finger was bare. Villanelle must have been staring for a full minute until Eve’s hand recoiled and it fell into her lap. 

_Did she finally do it?_

“I – uhm. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, Eve. I think you do need to talk about it.”

“We don’t have time.”

“Yes, we do. We will not walk out of this room until you are honest.”

Villanelle was still hurt that Eve left the way she had before they were finished having sex, the way she had clearly felt guilty for it and thought about her estranged husband, and for not coming to her sooner. And there were many things that needed to be said, especially if Eve was about to get them both killed. 

“I –“

Villanelle stood up from the bed and walked across the burgundy-carpeted floor to close the distance between them. She knelt on the floor, even in her designer pants, and held Eve’s hands in her own. Her eyes were locked on the faintly glassy brown eyes above her.

“My marriage is over. It’s been over for a long time, but I was too stuck to see the truth.” There was sadness and resignation in her voice.

Villanelle didn’t say anything, she could see and feel how difficult it was for Eve. All that she wanted to do was take some of the burden away. So she choked down the things she wanted to say. _You are far too good for him. He is too normal for you. You deserve more than he could give you._ But mostly, _you should be with me._

“It’s not that I wasn’t in love with him. I was at some point. I do still love him. But everything just got so … so fucking _boring._ And he was just so desperate for that boring.”

_Bravo, Eve._

“I spent so much time letting myself be cocooned by that, I didn’t even realize it happened. He set dates with friends on our calendar, _an actual, physical calendar_ , months in advance. And fucking bridge club, really?”

_I knew I was right to hate the moustache. Maybe I should let Eve kill him?_

“I found myself, subconsciously at first, trying to escape. I would stay out and drink way too much with work friends, forget his events or our dates with his friends, or bury myself in our home office to work on cases that weren’t even mine. And then you …”

_Yes, what about me?_

There was a long silence …

Villanelle wasn’t sure what exactly she could or should say in response. Eve was coming around to the truth, even if it was painfully slow. So she settled on standing them both up, and wrapping her arms around Eve to pull her into a tight hug. 

“Did that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.”

When Eve didn’t pull away from the embrace, even after several long beats, she couldn’t resist lightly running her fingers through that wonderfully dark, curly hair. It was hardly the most sensual or tense moment the two had shared, but it felt very intimate in a way that was so different for Villanelle. 

After a few heartbeats more, she broke their connection slightly.

“Should we go?”

When she asked the question, she looked into Eve’s eyes and was almost certain she could see a hint of disappointment at the idea of leaving.

“Yeah. We need to go.”

Villanelle walked over to her still packed bag on the floor and opened it. She pulled out a gun and a knife, just in case. She also decided to pocket the room’s complimentary corkscrew as a parting gift. 

“Here.” 

She handed the gun to Eve. It took several seconds for the gesture to register before Eve finally took the gun.

“You do know how to use a gun?”

“Yes.”

It was hardly a convincing response. 

“You were shot, and threatened by a criminal syndicate, but still have not learned how to fire a gun?”

“First of all, _you_ are the one who shot me. And second, that shot required months of rehab. So no, I haven’t had time to become an expert markswoman.” 

“When this is over, I will teach you how to shoot properly.”

 _Actually, that idea sounds hot. I should definitely do that._ Villanelle made a mental note of that idea, just in case they did make it out of whatever this situation was alive. For now though, it wasn’t helpful that Eve still had no idea what she was doing. Villanelle needed to protect Eve and keep her safe, no matter what else happened.

Villanelle finished her preparations, and put her hand on the room’s door.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Eve?”

“No. But we have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for continuing to follow along.
> 
> If you want to get in touch, I'm on Tumblr @ kai-oz23, but I don't post anything. I'm just there to see all the amazing and creative things other people share.


	7. Now We’re Even

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V gets heroic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: some gun violence upcoming. If you want to skip it, start reading after the line break.

They made their way toward the wide wooden staircase at the center of the boutique hotel. As they moved, Villanelle was sure to keep herself a few paces ahead of Eve, to inspect for signs of danger. She could feel a knot tightening in her chest along the way, something that prevented her from focusing on the escape.

After their descent, Villanelle realized the reason for her lack of clarity and stopped in her tracks to face Eve. 

_I have to tell her._

“Eve, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay. You can tell me when we get out of here.”

“No, I must tell you now.”

“Alright.” 

Eve’s brows were furrowed as she waited. Villanelle took a deep breath to collect herself. 

_Tell her._

“Now that I am back with the Twelve, or defecting from them, I realized that all I want is to …”

Waves of cigarette smoke and a thick Russian accent suffocated Villanelle’s confession.

“What do you think you are doing, Villanelle?”

Villanelle turned slowly to see Dasha standing between them and their exit. She lifted her pointer finger to her lips in a _shh_ gesture.

“I am doing some late night training, quietly sneaking through hotels. Like you taught me.”

“Still always so quick to throw away your gifts. You will never learn what it takes to be truly great.”

Dasha leaned cooly against one of the columns in the hotel lobby. She looked the same the last time she blew up Villanelle’s day. The only difference was that now, Dasha was putting Eve at risk.

“And I see you have decided to join us, the famous Eve Polastri. Why am I not surprised?”

“Leave her out of this!”

Villanelle turned to Eve with a genuine mix of fear, concern and determination on her face.

“You have to go, Eve. I will take care of this and I will find you.”

“No, Villanelle. I won’t leave without you.”

“Go. I know what I’m doing.”

Dasha moved to close the distance with the other women.

“Ugh. You do not deserve to be the best. I knew what it took to be special. All of the sacrifice and hard work required. No matter what I do or say to you, you are just stuck on stupid.”

She was finished giving her former mentor the time of day, the time to breathe. Villanelle lunged toward Dasha, her knife in hand.

“Eve, run!”

As they began to struggle, Villanelle could see Eve was still hesitating in her place.

“Please! Go!”

Despite being much younger and stronger than her opponent, Dasha still possessed her great athleticism and skill. She also fought quite dirty. While Dasha blocked Villanelle’s forearms and prevented her use of the knife, the older woman used the heel of her shoe and stamped down on her oxford-covered foot with a vicious ferocity. The force of the blow caused Villanelle to briefly waiver and gave Dasha the opening she needed to knock the knife from the blonde’s hand. 

Dasha capitalized further and jumped on Villanelle’s back to wrap her in a headlock.

“You are a complete embarrassment to me. All my years of training and investment in you, to be total a failure. When you could be a star, you decide to fall in a pile of shit instead. I will not let you destroy my return to Russia with all my glory.”

Through choked breaths, Villanelle tried to work the spider monkey-like woman off her back.

“You … were always … jealous of … me. You … are … a … liar! You never cared about me!”

Villanelle reached into her pants pocket for the corkscrew she’d taken from her hotel room. With all her strength, Villanelle jammed the corkscrew into the muscle of Dasha’s left thigh. She quickly pushed herself free while Dasha fell to the floor in agony. Villanelle punched Dasha squarely in the jaw, and scrambled to find her knife. 

In the instant she looked away for her weapon, Dasha managed to pull a gun seemingly out of thin air. She did not point the gun at Villanelle.

When Villanelle looked over her shoulder briefly, she saw that Eve still hadn’t run to safety. _Of course she didn’t listen to me._ Without hesitation, she charged as fast as she could into Dasha’s path to block her from a shot at Eve.

Villanelle heard the sound of the gunfire and felt the immediate pain in her chest. She dropped to her knees and then sprawled in a heap on the cold white and black marble floor as things started to become fuzzy. She thought she heard shouting and two more, loud bangs. Villanelle swore she could hear Eve’s voice … 

_Eve …_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Villanelle! Villanelle! Can you hear me?”

Eve hovered over the blonde’s limp body. There were tears in her eyes as she held Villanelle’s cheeks in her hands. 

“Villanelle! Why did you do that?”

Her voice started to crack and the tears began to flow freely. Eve pulled Villanelle’s head to her chest and sobbed.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Villanelle started to come to with groggy, choked breaths.

“Eve?”

“Villanelle? Oh my god! Villanelle! How?”

She took a few more struggled gasps for air and reached for her chest. Villanelle let out a deep groan.

“I was here for the takeover of a shadowy criminal organization … _ouch_ … I wore my Kevlar.”

Villanelle continued to wince in pain as she moved her right shoulder to test the level of pain. But she never moved away from Eve’s chest, content to be held that close for as long as possible. 

“You really are an asshole.” Eve said it as she laughed and wiped a few stray tears from her eyes.

Villanelle finally realized that Dasha was nowhere to be found. She moved from the comfort of the embrace slightly and took a look at the surroundings. When she peered over Eve’s shoulder, she saw Dasha on the floor in a pool of blood.

“You shot her?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Are you alright? Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you jump in front of the shot?”

“You didn’t listen when I told you to go. I had to do something.”

_Because I love you._

It was quiet as they both regained their composure. Villanelle remembered she heard two shots when she hit the ground. High in the marble column behind Dasha’s body, she could see that there was a stray bullet hole.

“You are a terrible shot, Eve.”

She grinned and couldn’t help but chuckle at Eve’s poor shooting skills. Villanelle saw Eve’s face soften a bit more in appreciation of the levity.

“Yeah, well, that is the second time I’ve saved your life. So just be grateful.”

It was impossible not to laugh at that, even with the pain in her chest and shoulder.

“Ha! That must be your other assassin girlfriend.”

“Uh huh.” Eve rolled her eyes at that. But she also had a sweet little smirk on her face that she couldn’t manage to hide. Villanelle was acutely aware that Eve didn’t fight back or protest the implications of the joke either. It sent a surge of warmth through her that mixed with the adrenaline and sting from the gunshot.

“Now I’m jealous.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going to go now?”

“We need to go back to London.”

“Everyone will be after us now, Eve.”

“What else is new?” 

She seemed completely unfazed by the further danger posed by yet another instance where the pair managed to foil so many different sets of plans. Villanelle had to wonder when Eve would realize that the real reason they always came together, despite the designs the outside world had for them, was because they loved each other. 

Eve stood and helped Villanelle push back on her feet.

“Ow! Be careful. I’ve just been shot.”

“Can’t imagine what that must feel like? Just think if you didn’t have a bullet-proof vest?” Eve’s tone was sarcastic, but also, weirdly, a bit playful.

_She’s forgiven me for Rome, not that I would apologize. She may be the actual psychopath._

Villanelle stared into Eve’s brown eyes for a moment, searching for a sign that the time was still right to tell her the depth of her feelings and that they were real. Then Eve broke her gaze.

“We better get out of here before anyone else shows up.”

And the chance was gone. _Again._

“Okay, let’s go. But I am not staying in your gross apartment, Eve.”

They both grinned at that, made their exit from the hotel and headed toward Eve’s rental car.

“Thanks for taking a bullet for me.”

“You are welcome. Are we even?”

“Yes. Now we’re even.”

As they drove away, Villanelle savored the faint glow of lights as they passed towns and villages. The drive was quiet and Villanelle took stock of her situation for the first time. She had been shot, she’d been shot at multiple times, stabbed multiple times, betrayed multiple times, given false promises multiple times. Villanelle realized just how tiring it all made her feel.

The truth was that Villanelle hadn’t been free like she thought, not really. She was still just a cog in some mysterious criminal machine. She was powerless and if she stayed, they would always keep directing her whether it was the Twelve or some other group. They didn’t care about her, so long as she fell in line and did the job. Sure, there would be money and clothes and flats. 

But with Eve, there was the possibility of something more. She was the only person who had ever come back for her, and now she had done it twice. Villanelle ached to hold onto that idea of something more, something real, something worth all the pain she caused and lived through.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After three hours on the road away from Bordeaux, both women were down from their respective adrenaline highs and Villanelle was hungry. There would still be over two hours to go before they reaching Paris and it made sense for the pair to get some rest and regroup, and Villanelle was hungry. 

“We are close to Tours, Eve. We should stop.”

“It’s only 01.00. We can make it to Paris then catch the train.”

Villanelle reached out a hand to rest it lightly on Eve’s shoulder. She needed to relax, especially having killed someone. Again.

“I am hungry and you need to sleep. You were wired, but that is fading. I am sure we are safe for now.”

She started to search for nearby hotels on her cell phone in an effort to force Eve’s hand.

“I found two rooms at Le Grand Hotel de Tours. You can rest, I will find us something to eat, and we will continue in the morning.”

“Fine, but it probably makes more sense to share a room and take shifts sleeping. Just in case.”

Villanelle was taken aback by Eve’s suggestion. Actually, she was elated and failed miserably with containing her smile at such an idea. She didn’t expect anything to happen, but even the slightest prospect of sharing a bed with Eve would be more than she had thought possible a few days ago. 

“You’re right. Just in case.”

She booked the room as they made their way to the hotel. As luck would have it, there weren’t any rooms with two single or double beds.

“They only have rooms with one queen, or a suite with a king size available. We should get the suite, on me.”

“Sure.”

While it was so far from what her dreams and fantasies of what traveling with Eve would look like, Villanelle was more than content to take what she could get. She would appreciate whatever memories they was lucky enough to make. Tomorrow the world would be searching for them, yet again. It would try to pull them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed more of Dasha's lines from my former gymnastics coaches. Another of my personal favorites, "You can't fix stupid."
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading. I hope you're enjoying this!


	8. You Have to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is soft, soft, soft, soft, soft. But I promise, it is headed somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V has been going through it on the show, she needs a hug and some love. I want her to have it.
> 
> Also - when I was writing this chapter, I couldn't get this song out of my head. Don't ask me why, I've always loved it and it just felt right. I usually don't post what I'm listening to, but I had to this time.

> _"I'm sleeping to dream about you  
>  And I'm so damn tired  
>  Of having to live without you"_
> 
> **Jason Mraz - Sleeping to Dream**

Situated inside their suite at Le Grand Hotel de Tours, Villanelle immediately attacked the mini bar with its less-than-stellar assortment of crisps, chocolate bars and candy. That would hardly be enough to satisfy her appetite. After all, Eve had interrupted her dinner when she set their getaway scheme into motion. 

During their relatively quiet drive, Villanelle could sense that Eve was trying to reconcile her feelings of having killed another person. It was hiding behind her eyes, but now in a place of relative safety, she could see the bits of wariness starting to show.

This time clearly didn’t weigh her down in the same way Raymond had, but she knew that Eve always had something in her soul that would never allow her to kill without internal consequences like she could. Villanelle browsed the assortment of alcohol in the suite to help calm the brunette’s nerves.

“Eve, would you like vodka, gin or whiskey?”

“Yes.”

Villanelle had to crack a smile and let out a chuckle at that. It was a good sign that Eve still had her sense of humor about her.

“I’ll surprise you.”

She grabbed the gin and a bottle of tonic water from the mini-fridge and used her mixology skills to craft Eve’s gin and tonic. Villanelle handed her the drink with an eager glint in her eyes.

Eve took a nervous sip, and she watched with bated breath. She could see that Eve was surprised by what she’d made.

“This actually isn’t bad.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I spent several weeks learning to tend bar for a job I had in Budapest two years ago. I earned 300€ in tips in less than two hours that night while I waited until my target was done with snorting his coke lines so I could choke him with those little plastic cocktail straws.”

That story earned her an adorable little half smile in return. While Eve kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed, Villanelle walked across the room and unpacked her burnt orange Sandqvist backpack. As she dug through her tightly stuffed bag and tossed her clothes across the suite, she could feel eyes staring at her. 

“Yes?”

“I’m trying to figure out how you fit so damn many outfits in such a tiny bag. What are you even looking for in there?”

“These!” Villanelle finally found what she was searching for. She pulled out her pair of Josie Natori black silk pajamas with watercolor floral print and tossed them to Eve. 

“I assume you didn’t pack a change of clothes or pajamas. You can borrow mine. I will keep watch while you rest.”

“Thanks. But that’s not necessary.”

“Please, Eve. I insist.”

Eve graciously accepted the pajamas and walked to the bathroom to change. Villanelle tore into a bag of crisps and situated herself on the sofa in the adjoined living room. She switched on the television to find something to keep her attention while Eve got some sleep. When the bathroom door creaked open, she couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a sight of Eve in her silk pajamas. The view warranted far more than a single, playful eyebrow raise, but Villanelle was desperately working on maintaining her self-control in their current situation.

“I can’t believe you seriously wear silk pajamas. Who even does that?”

“There is something to be said for luxury. And I think they suit you. Keep them.”

“Thanks.” Eve couldn’t help but run her fingers over the soft silk fabric.

“Besides, this way you will think of me when you are lying in bed.” She threw a wink as she said it.

“Yeah, you wish.”

“I do.”

Eve shot her a glare as she climbed into the giant king size bed and wrapped herself in the white duvet. She pulled out her hair tie and Villanelle gleefully watched Eve run her fingers through her hair to shake out her wonderfully luscious curls. It couldn’t have been more than a few moments before Eve finished off her gin and tonic then switched off the bedroom lights.

With Eve drifting away toward sleep, Villanelle finally had a chance to inspect the damage she suffered as a result of the gunshot. She removed her leather jacket, disgusted that the bullet had punctured the supple leather and ruined it. The bullet also managed to destroy one of her absolute favorite red shirts. To give herself more privacy, she tiptoed into the bathroom to remove her Kevlar vest.

Villanelle shuddered in pain as she removed the Velcro straps of her vest. The pain was suddenly far more intense than she previously let herself believe. With the vest removed and her bare chest exposed in the mirror, she could see the bruising made a massive welt, nearly 8 cm in diameter, and spanned from her armpit across her breast bone. 

The bruise was already a deep shade of purply blue, with streaks of reds and pinks mixed in among the broken blood vessels. There were a few flecks of dried blood on her chest as well, and when she ran her fingers over her bruise, it was hot to her touch. This would take more than just a few days to heal properly, but if she was now running from the Twelve, Them (still unclear who _They_ actually were), and Mi6, Villanelle doubted she would have the time she needed to do so. She soaked one of the bathroom towels in cold water and lightly dabbed her bruise in an effort to ease the pain. 

The bathroom door pushed open as she sucked in a breath of air through gritted teeth. Eve was staring at her in the mirror, again. This was far from the ideal circumstance she envisioned for Eve’s first real sight of her tits. 

_Shit._

“I brought you some ice.”

“Thank you.”

Eve walked over with a small bag of ice and pressed it into Villanelle’s exposed skin. The instant cooling sensation was a bit of a shock at first, but having Eve come to her in such a tender way sent warmth through Villanelle’s whole body. So much so that she was only slightly disappointed with herself that Eve had caught her in a vulnerable state.

_Nothing about this looks sexy._

“Here. Go sit on the bed.” 

They walked in synch to the large bed. Villanelle propped herself up against the headboard, propped up among the overstuffed white pillows. Eve continued to hold the bag of ice in place, her eyes averted toward the commercial playing on the tv. She couldn’t quite tell why Eve was looking away. She hoped it was an attempt to keep her eyes away from Villanelle’s body and that it was somehow still attractive under the ice and discoloration. 

“You know, if this is just your way of trying to get me naked and in bed with you, all you had to do was ask.”

“I’m well aware that I wouldn’t require an excuse, thanks.”

Villanelle responded with a full-toothed smile, and all Eve could do was shake her head as she went about her icing duties. Villanelle placed her free hand on top of Eve’s in an effort to draw her eyes back. It worked.

“You do need to get some rest, Eve. I appreciate your help, but I’ll be fine.”

“Just shut up and let me help you.”

“Okay. If you want to help, can you undo my braid? I am starting to get a headache.”

Her shoulder and chest had been in so much pain for the last few hours that Villanelle had only just realized her ears were ringing and her head was pounding. Eve followed through with the request, released her hold of the ice bag for a moment and freed Villanelle’s hair from its tight French braid.

_This isn’t sexy, but it is perfect._

She wanted to enjoy their closeness, this thing that felt right and normal. Villanelle moved her injured shoulder slightly and pulled Eve closer to her so that soft brown curls were resting along her arm. She closed her eyes for just a second to capture everything about it in her mind. Villanelle wanted to keep the perfect moment and the tiny sparks that jumped in her heart. She had to relish the way that Eve was so gently taking care of her, fighting back her own exhaustion in the process. 

Villanelle committed it all to memory – how soft Eve’s skin was against her own, the way her hair smelled of slightly citrusy, waxy bergamot and lemon, with faint hints of sandalwood and magnolia weaved in. The scent wasn’t sweet; it was rich, warm and nuanced, and somehow so Eve. She would have to find out what shampoo Eve used so she could buy it and remind herself of this, even if the thought sounded a little weird in her head. 

After a few minutes, Eve fell asleep on her shoulder and the bag of ice slid down Villanelle’s stomach. She delicately tossed the bag on the floor then she slowly maneuvered both of them under the white covers, careful not to disturb Eve’s sleep. Villanelle wrapped her right arm behind Eve’s neck and around her torso so that her head rested on her chest, just far enough away from the gunshot bruise. Even if the position caused some increased aching, Villanelle didn’t care. This was all she ever could have wanted, and she was so tired of not having it. 

“I want to be yours, Eve.” She whispered the words quietly into the air, even if Eve wouldn’t hear them. Then Villanelle closed her eyes, let the warmth of it all envelope her and floated off to sleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She woke up completely rested and peaceful, it was a very different feeling from the way she usually started her days. Both women had moved during the night, now Eve was spooning her. Eve’s hand was awfully close to her bar breast and it made Villanelle’s heart flutter. 

As much as she wanted to stay like that forever, Villanelle was hungry and she carefully slid herself out of bed to search for breakfast. She silently picked up the light blue Carolina Herrera silk collared shirt with chiffon sleeves and her black and white Paco Rabanne wool twill pants that she had thrown around the suite last night and got dressed. Villanelle found her Christian Louboutin studded combat boots, pulled them on, and out the door she went.

After a trip to the hotel’s dining room, Villanelle returned to the suite with two coffees and pastries in hand. Eve was still asleep, so she ate quietly on the sofa and watched the duvet rise and fall slightly with each light, gentle breath.

_I would give anything to have this every day._

Just as she thought about how much more of this she needed to have, the now familiar feelings of doubt and uncertainty crept into Villanelle’s head. Anytime something in her life seemed too good to be true, it always was. Whether it was her work with the Twelve, or Anna, or Konstantin, all of it had a tendency to burn up. And now, here with Eve, she was dangerously close to the sun. 

She was always quick to shake those thoughts when they burrowed into her mind, she would try to force them out through a shopping spree or meaningless sex with a random hookup. Both had been relatively effective coping strategies for Villanelle that gave her a sense of control and power. Those things just didn’t have the same ability to satisfy her anymore when she thought about Eve. Villanelle didn’t want them now, she only wanted more of these moments.

Here she was with the woman she was certain she loved, and _fuck it,_ she was desperately tired of living without her and how wonderful it all made her feel. She had to take this chance to tell Eve how she felt and that she understood what it all meant while she had it. It didn’t matter if her confession made her cede control or power. 

_This is worth it._

Villanelle lost track of how long she spent just sitting there in the stillness of the hotel suite. She tried to piece together how she would explain it all to Eve. Finally, she saw movement from the bed, wild curls stirring across the white-on-white bedding.

“Morning. I brought you a coffee and some breakfast. I’m not sure if it is still warm.”

Eve yawned and stretched the sleep out of her joints.

“Thanks.” She rolled herself out of bed and walked over to join Villanelle on the sofa.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did actually. How is your chest?” Eve pointed to Villanelle’s chest with a black cardboard hotel coffee cup already in hand.

“I will be fine. The ice helped.”

“Good. You should have shown it to me sooner. We might have prevented some of the swelling.” She was already tearing into the croissant as she spoke.

Villanelle had spent many painstaking minutes in the hotel dining room, standing over the breakfast buffet trying to decide what Eve would want for breakfast. She was rather annoyed with herself that she ultimately went with the safe choice of a croissant when the spread had much more to offer in the way of eggs, meats, cheeses, yogurts and other baked goods. It was so unlike her to be so … _basic._ But she knew Eve at least liked croissants. She wanted to know all of the other things Eve liked to eat for breakfast, whether she had a routine, and how often she liked to sleep in.

_I want to know everything._

Villanelle took a deep breath and trained her eyes on Eve.

“Eve, there is something I …”

“Before you say anything, I have a question for you.”

“Oh. Okay. What is it?” Villanelle looked down at her hands, fearful her chance had gone again.

“Why did you run in front of Dasha and take the bullet?” She could feel Eve’s eyes focused on her, searching for the deeper meaning. 

“I already told you, I wanted to protect you.”

“No, I know that. But what was the _real_ reason? You could have been killed.” Eve rested one hand on top of Villanelle’s and cupped her cheek with the other. It always made Villanelle weak. The softness of the touch was still enough to spark a fire in her chest. 

She understood that this was still the chance. Eve was giving her the opportunity to lay out her feelings.

“You have to know, Eve. You have to know the reason.” Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to get her words out.

“I want to hear it from you.” As Eve spoke, her eyes were locked on Villanelle’s and intent on getting to the truth of her feelings as she pulled her hand back to her breakfast.

Villanelle was suddenly terrified by the thoughts in her head that told her this was too good to be true and that she would be burned again by Eve. It was so much easier to be confident when she only had to think about her feelings, not actually verbalize them. 

“I did it because I couldn’t stand to see you hurt for a second. I never want you to feel any more pain. You are the only thing in the world that I care about. All I can think about every day is what would make you happy. I don’t care about the money, or the clothes, or the flats. Just you, Eve. You are the only thing that matters to me. I love you. That is why I did it.“

There it was. The truth was out there in the air for Eve to consider. Villanelle searched the deep brown eyes staring back at her, but she couldn’t make out what Eve was thinking.

“I know.” There was no sparkle in her eyes when she said it, no excitement or happiness in her voice. It was such a matter-of-fact response to Villanelle’s declaration of love that it felt like defeat. 

“If you know, why did you make me say it?” Villanelle raised an eyebrow in an effort to hide the confusion she could hear spilling out with her words.

“Because. I want to whether _you_ can tell if you’re telling the truth?” Eve narrowed her gaze with the delivery of her next probing yet awkward question. It was a question she’d asked before, now Villanelle knew the answer.

“Yes. I am telling you the truth, Eve. I know that you may never be able to love me the way I love you. And I can accept that now. If it has to be that way and you want me to walk away, I will.” Villanelle reached out to take Eve’s coffee-free left hand. “But I think someday you could, if you try. You have all the power here.”

Eve let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“So much has happened. I’ve hurt you and you’ve hurt me. We’ve tried to kill each other for fuck’s sake! I’ve killed two people in all of this damned disaster we’ve created.” She averted her eyes when she said it. Villanelle could see the doubt on Eve’s face.

It was Villanelle’s turn to shoot a pointed look into Eve’s brown eyes. She squeezed Eve’s hand tighter and spoke with as much clarity and honesty as she possessed.

“You are right. So much has happened. But everything we have done has brought us here and I will not apologize for that. I am certain I love you and nothing else will ever matter to me now.” She meant every word, and Villanelle could see that Eve knew it was all true.

Eve was clearly contemplating her response. Whatever she had been thinking, she settled for, “I’m not sorry either.”

That made them both smile.

“You do not have to have all the answers now, Eve.” 

“I know.” 

Villanelle leaned over and kissed Eve gently on her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading. I hope you're all enjoying this.
> 
> I'm on tumblr @kai-oz23. I'm on Twitter too, but I don't stan hard enough there.


	9. It Involves a Blender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute and angsty, with some bad singing by V.
> 
> You can think what you want, but if you disagree with this, you can move the fuck along and stop reading this fic. I have to comment to however many of you read this, that what's happening to black people in America, and across the world, is disgusting, systemic racism. George Floyd was murdered. It's abhorrent and I implore you to do something, anything you can. Riot, protest, donate, tweet, blog. Use your voice and stand up for black lives.
> 
> I hope everyone is excited for tomorrow's S3 finale. I cannot wait and am 100% confident it will deliver on the Villaneve content.
> 
> I was listening to alot of Elliott Smith this week. "Say Yes" is one of my Villaneve head canon songs, sorry if you disagree.
> 
> More notes at the end.

_"It's always been wait and see  
A happy day and then you pay  
And feel like shit the morning after  
But now I feel changed around and instead falling down  
I'm standing up the morning after"_

_**Elliott Smith - Say Yes** _

With so much yet to discuss, but no way yet to say it, they completed check out from the hotel and retrieved Eve’s rental car for the trip back to Paris. Before Eve even had time to turn the engine over, Villanelle began her plea to convince her that their very sensible compact vehicle, a black Citroen C4, was unacceptable for the remainder of the drive as they made their way out of Tours. 

“If _They_ or the Twelve found out you were in Bordeaux, they will find out how to track us, Eve. We should ditch this and find another car.” 

Villanelle looked over the unfortunate black-grey cloth interior of the car and wrinkled her nose in abhorrence. It was much easier to suffer through the ride in a car like this under the cover of darkness and the pain of a gunshot.

“I didn’t rent the car using my credit card. I borrowed the corporate card from the Bitter Pill. It will be fine.” Eve huffed her response while she pulled out of the parking space and restarted the journey. She was clearly pleased with her stealth tactics. Villanelle couldn’t help but find it absolutely adorable and rather sexy that Eve was willing to commit credit card fraud for her. _Really sexy actually. Sexy fraudster Eve._

“But you did rent it using your actual name, yes? Trust me. I will get us another car, it will be better.”

“Fine. Just hurry up.” It was clear from her shift in tone and the slight pout to her lips that Eve recognized her amateur mistake, but she certainly wasn’t willing to admit it. 

“I will be back in five minutes.” Villanelle pushed herself out of the passenger door and was gone before Eve had brought the car to a complete stop. 

In exactly five minutes, ever true to her word, Villanelle returned with another car – a fire engine red, vintage Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider. There was no way she was driving back to Paris, this time with Eve by her side, in anything less than a double-take worthy sports car. She wanted Parisians to salivate when they drove past and saw Eve’s curls blowing wildly in the wind. The thought of that sight sent a quick jolt of fire straight through Villanelle’s body directly to her core.

“What do you think?” Villanelle was extremely pleased with her efforts and smiled from ear to ear as stood up in the driver’s seat and opened her arms wide to present the new getaway vehicle.

“Very inconspicuous.” Eve rolled her eyes and tossed her bag into the back seat. “How did you even get this – no. Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“That is for the best.” She said through a toothy grin.

Villanelle jumped back into the supple worn-in tan leather of the bucket seat, hit the gas then turned up the radio dial. 

She recognized the song blasting from the speakers and started to belt along with the tune.

_“We belong to the [n]ight, we belong to the thunder  
We belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen under  
Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better  
We belong, we belong, we belong together!”_

She didn’t pay any attention to the road as she sang, one hand on the wheel, the other directing her operatic delivery of the 80’s ballad while she bobbed her head completely out of sync with the beat.

“Jesus Christ. You’re a terrible singer. And it’s _light,_ not _night.”_ Eve’s eyes were wide and she covered her mouth to hide her laugh. Villanelle grabbed Eve’s hand and laced their fingers together to move them back and forth, still off beat.

“Please, Eve, it is rude to interrupt when you are being serenaded. And I do know the lyrics. I am taking artistic license and you should be flattered.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing? I thought you might be imitating the cries of a stray cat. At least I finally found something you don’t do well. All this time, I thought you were somehow magically so damn good at everything with literally zero training or practice. But this … you are absolutely dreadful!” 

Eve continued to laugh as Villanelle danced their hands through the rest of the song. She usually took great offence when someone laughed at her, but not Eve. This was playful and every second she heard that laugh, her heart swelled just a bit more. She wanted to hear more of that laugh, even if she had to embarrass herself in the process.

_Shit, when did I become so soft?_

“I am an excellent singer. You need to have your hearing checked.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**GARE DU NORD STATION**

Villanelle purchased the premier class tickets for the next Eurostar train to London while she sent Eve to buy snacks. She decided it was a huge sign of trust for her to allow Eve to make the choice on what sweets she would eat during a two-hour long train ride. 

Much to Villanelle’s delight, Eve returned, hands full, carrying an assortment of Haribo, KitKats, Aero bars and two ice cream cones. 

_This woman is the love of my life!_

“These are perfect! Thank you.”

“Sure, but we may have to walk back to London after all this junk.”

As they walked to their platform, Villanelle unwrapped the paper from each of the cones and handed one to Eve. 

They waited for their train for several minutes, both quietly licking their ice cream. Villanelle watched Eve closely, attentive to her movements and far off stares. The best she could surmise was that her brunette counterpart was still worried about what awaited them upon their return to London. Villanelle made it her goal to reassure Eve during their ride. Whatever they had to face, they would do it together. 

With the train ready for boarding, Villanelle led them to their seats in the business class car. She placed her bag into the grey plastic overhead bin and watched as Eve made herself comfortable in the near empty car. Before Villanelle could offer to take her bag, Eve had pulled out her note pad and pen and began to scribble away.

“What are you are you doing?”

“I’m working. What does it look like?”

“It looks a little psychopathic actually.” She flashed a smirk as she it. But Eve was so focused on her efforts she hadn’t even noticed the quip. It was no wonder that she’d been able to track Villanelle all across Europe multiple times. 

_When Eve Polastri is focused, no one will stop her._

Villanelle pressed her palm over the brunette’s notes to gain her attention.

“Seriously, Eve. Let me help you with this. What are you working on?”

“Right now I’m trying to figure out why Konstantin would spy on Carolyn? I assumed they were cozy, bosom buddies.” The corner of Eve’s lips curled upward, as if she was making a joke to herself.

“That’s easy. He is a full of shit and only cares about himself.”

“Clearly. But what did he get out of sharing her information and who is he giving it to?”

“The Twelve. He did it to get back in.”

“Good, exactly.” Eve pointed her pen at Villanelle as she spoke.

_She thinks I am brilliant. I like this game._

“Now, if the Twelve have eyes and ears on Carolyn at home, and that was Konstantin’s task to get back in. But he still warned me about your move with them after that money was stolen. He knew I would find you. So why would he do that?” She swatted Villanelle’s had off of her notes and went back to work.

It was amazing to watch Eve furiously diagram her ideas. _Dammit everything she does is so sexy._

“Maybe Konstantin does care for me in his own, shit way?”

“I’m sure you’re right about that. He really, weirdly does. Now the question is, how does this tie back to Kenny?”

“I do not think it does. Konstantin is not that stupid. He is afraid of Carolyn.”

“Yes. And how would the Twelve know what Kenny was doing at work? He wasn’t working with Carolyn or Mi6 anymore.” Eve’s brows furrowed and she narrowed her gaze like she was zoning in on her target.

“It must be someone Kenny worked with, Eve. That is obvious.”

“Fuck, you’re right.” She let her blue ballpoint pen fall from her fingers and slumped in her seat. Eve’s face was a mixture of anger and sadness for just an instant, until she found her steely resolve.

The train began to slowly lurch forward away from the station. Villanelle carefully watched the reflection of their reflections in the window as buildings started to flash by. She could see the slightest movement in the wild curls when Eve moved about, lost in her own world. While she waited for Eve to work through her thoughts, Villanelle ran her pointer finger across the plastic table in front of her seat, outlining each groove, stopping once to draw a tiny invisible heart in the corner. 

Villanelle thought about how Eve must feel having suffered so much loss in all of their chasing and fighting and reconnecting. Eve had people who cared for her – friends, family. But Eve and Konstantin were the only people Villanelle had. She said a silent prayer to whatever god was out there, the one who would even take requests from murder-loving assassins, that now Eve would always let Villanelle be in her life.

With a small sigh, Eve pulled her hair back into a ponytail and she resumed her notations.

“Do you remember anything Dasha said about the Twelve’s plans? Any information you may have learned?”

“Unfortunately, I was always double-booked and missed the team meetings.”

“Okay, I realize that you weren’t privy to grand schemes, but there has to be _something_ that you were told that can help us.”

Villanelle thought back to her conversations with Dasha, in her home after the wedding reception, in various Barcelona cafes, in Villanelle’s gorgeous apartment. 

_They keep sending me new recruits …_

“Dasha did say the Twelve had been recruiting new assassins. All were inferior to yours truly, of course. They even tried to make me work with some kid again, I can’t really remember his name. Fred, or Phil, or whatever. I am sure you can guess how it went.”

“New recruits? Why would the Twelve be looking for new recruits?”

“Naturally skilled people like us are difficult to find, Eve. We are a very rare breed. And Felix! His name was Felix!”

“Right.” Eve furiously rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a large black cell phone with the words _It’s not rocket science_ displayed across the back of the case. 

“The Twelve found you and Nadia while you were both in prison. We know they look for young people in prison, young women in particular.”

“Okay …?”

Eve unlocked the phone and rapidly scrolled through a series of photos on the camera roll. Villanelle could see the fire burning in her eyes. “The girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend? That is so amateur and quite unoriginal. Does no one have creativity or flare anymore?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Eve’s revelation that some woman named Audrey was possibly involved in her friend’s death, the next hour of the train ride was dedicated to her plotting out how she would expose the truth. Villanelle already knew better than to interrupt her process, it was something she had to work through. Finally, after a series of ramblings and another set of notations, Eve gave herself a few moments to breathe.

Villanelle reached out to rest her hand on top of Eve’s even though she still clutched her pen tightly. She tried again to be reassuring. _And soft. I'm so soft now._

“We will sort this out. I am here for you, Eve.”

There was no response for several moments.

“Thank you.” Eve closed her eyes and rested her head against Villanelle’s arm. To have her move toward Villanelle willingly, almost instinctively, it sent jolts and sparks through her body and nearly made her head spin. She savored the opportunity to be a source of comfort for the woman she loved. 

“You know I will kill her if you ask.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I have to take this to Carolyn.”

“That does not sound like a no.” Villanelle could feel Eve let out a small, silent laugh. 

“If I’m right, I’ll do it myself.”

“How?” She trained her eyes down on the head full of dark curls, curiously awaiting an answer.

“Wh-what?” Eve turned her head to stare back at Villanelle.

“How would you do it, Eve?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t exactly thought about it.”

“You mean to tell me you have never thought about how you would like kill someone?” Villanelle raised an eyebrow in doubt.

“I have. But only Niko.”

She desperately tried to contain her absolute glee that the brunette had entertained the idea of ridding herself of the moustache. Here efforts were clearly in vain and she didn’t hide her smile at all.

“Okay. You need to take that shit eating grin off your face right now.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She continued to let her smile grow wider, and all Eve could do was offer an exasperated eye roll in return. “Will you tell me how you’d do it?”

“No, abso-fucking-lutely not.”

“Oh, Eve. You are no fun.” Villanelle folded her arms and pushed out her lower lip to pout.

“You’ll just have to use your imagination.”

“Trust me, I will. And I will be imagining so many very sexy things.” She flashed a smaller, devilish smirk this time. The one she knew Eve secretly enjoyed.

“You are such a prick, you know that?”

“All you have to do is give me a tiny hint. Please? Otherwise, I must let my thoughts run wild.” Villanelle moved her thumb and pointer finger together in a pinching motion hoping to induce some details.

Eve let out a frustrated, over-the-top huff. She definitely wanted to spill some details. Villanelle knew that her reluctance was all for show.

“All I’m gonna say is that it involves a blender and a bathroom.”

Villanelle could feel her eyes bulge wide at all the intricate ways she envisioned killing Niko now. It was an exhilarating high.

“Mmm. I like it when you talk dirty like this. I, too, have a thing for bathrooms.” She shot a wink toward the now staring brunette.

“Just shut up or I might test how you’re healing.”

“I am not opposed to rough foreplay, Eve. And I know you do enjoy a display on public transport.”

Eve hit Villanelle in her good shoulder. It was just enough to teeter on the edge between either cute and playful or a little rough and aggressive. _This new Eve is fucking glorious._ Villanelle hoped that Eve could sense she was rapidly sending her down the frenzied path of desire. 

Even injured and facing almost with certain death in the future, there was no earthly way for Villanelle to deny what she wanted in that moment. Their business class car was virtually empty anyhow. In fact, if they were headed back to London to a trap or showdown, it would only be sensible to feed their impulses. 

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not going to happen.”

Villanelle slyly inched her body closer to Eve’s. It was damn near impossible to resist the faux petulance being fired her way.

“You’ve said that before.”

“And I mean it.”

Villanelle took a millisecond to glance down at Eve’s lips and reflexively felt herself bite down on her own. She moved just a bit closer.

“I know.”

After a second more, they were in each other’s space, noses practically touching as Eve had started to move toward her as well. 

“No, I’m serious.”

They were fully breathing the same air now. Villanelle could feel the warmth of Eve’s exhales against her cheeks.

“Uh huh.”

She caught Eve’s gaze trail down from her eyes to her lips. It wasn’t quick, it just lingered. They were just lingering for what felt like an eternity. And Villanelle felt her heart starting to pound loudly through her chest, like it wanted to explode from her rib cage.

“I told you, Eve. You have all the power.”

“Stop talking and ki –“

That was all it took for Villanelle to close the distance between them. There was no need for Eve to finish the thought. Villanelle already knew what she was going to say, she was just waiting for Eve to get there. She was always waiting for Eve to get there.

When their lips finally touched, the sensation nearly devoured Villanelle. That part was not new. But what was new was that Eve was kissing her now, deeply and intensely, knowing full well that Villanelle does actually, truly, genuinely loves her. 

Their kiss was full of just as much desire as any of the prior kisses, but this was less … primal. There was something else behind this, Villanelle could feel it, she just couldn’t place what it was or what to call it. It didn’t really matter anyhow, not while her entire body was electrified at the feel of Eve’s soft lips against her own.

After a few moments, their firm kisses deepened and Villanelle opened her mouth slightly to match Eve’s. She swore she could taste the faintest hints of chocolate and vanilla from the ice cream that still remained on the brunette’s lips. Then it was game over. Something flipped the primal switch back on. Villanelle’s tongue reflexively pushed out of her mouth to connect with Eve’s and she could feel the vibration of a soft moan upon contact.

Ever mesmerized by the dark brown curls, Villanelle’s right hand was magnetically drawn up, fingers lost as they moved through the locks with a small but purposeful pull. She could feel Eve’s lips smirking against her own, only to be followed by her deliciously stinging bite of Villanelle’s lower lip. Villanelle pushed herself up and out of her seat, left knee digging into it for leverage as she leaned over top of Eve, desperate to get closer.

_*bell ding*_

_“Ladies and gentlemen, please be advised that we are approaching London’s St. Pancras Station. Please collect your belongings and prepare for arrival. We thank you for travelling with us and wish you a pleasant day.”_

Villanelle could feel Eve’s hand tap her lightly on the top of her chest signaling that it was time to stop.

_“Uhhhhhh.”_ She reluctantly forced herself backward into her own seat amid additional huffs and grumbles. But all she heard out of Eve was laughter.

“Are you ready to do this?”

“No. I am not ready, Eve. I think we must return to your flat for more planning.”

“I thought my flat was gross?” She raised her eyebrow and grinned at her question. Eve clearly knew that Villanelle had no interest in planning.

“I have changed my mind. In hindsight, your use of tissues strewn about is the peak of chic bohemian interior design.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely calling bullshit on that. Grab your bag, we’re going to Carolyn’s.”

“Fine.”

As Villanelle threw one strap of her burnt orange backpack over her left shoulder, she cursed those unknown gods she’d thought of before. _They are clearly jealous of hot blonde assassins._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. All the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ kai-oz23 posting all my KE theories. I'm also on twitter if you can find me, but I promise I'm not that interesting.


End file.
